


Sweet Thing

by ectoBisexual



Category: Free!
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoBisexual/pseuds/ectoBisexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This boy of his is wrecked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Thing

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY FIRST COMMISSION IN MONTHS & ITS PORN.  
> the anonymous-person-who-is-actually-not-so-anonymous who sent this request in is embarrassed about their kink & listen, listen. bby. i love u. my kinks are gross 2. ill write any and all of ur gross kinks for u  
> that being said, aside from gore this might be the most out-there porn thing ive written. thank u for giving me the freedom to do so, karl marx  
> hmu w/ commission stuff here: http://www.quotev.com/cometghost/journal/1477575/Andys-Official-Commissions-Page/  
> for anyone wondering, this is a $5 pwp ! its shorter than usual bc i discounted it but !

He squirms, shifting in his seat, a peculiar look on his face, and Haru knows.

"What?"

"Ah-- it's nothing."

Makoto's the worst liar ever. Haru leans in. " _What?"_

"It's just-- it's-- well--" A pink tongue darts out, wetting his lips. Haru watches. Fascinated. He wants to suck on that tongue, listen to the stricken noises ebb from his boyfriend's mouth.

"It's...?"

"Intense. Um." He wets his lips again, lashes fluttering. "Can I go now?"

"No."

The hand he has, resting against Makoto's abdomen, soothing it, rubbing sweet circles, presses down. Makoto squeaks.

"Ha-- Haru!"

"Shh, you're alright," the other soothes, resuming the earlier comforting motions of his hand. Makoto is squirming again, face flushed. Heart racing. Haru lowers his eyelids. Hours ago these same hands had drawn circles on his boyfriend's hipbones, his lips pressing fleetingly over and over to the sensitive skin of the line between them, to his belly, swelling on every inhale, flushed, warm skin, his. Now, tears are prickling lovely Makoto's eyes, teeth sinking in and reddening his lower lip. God. Haru wants-- he wants a lot of things, craves Makoto's kitten licks and harsh bites, the warbles that tumble from his lips and greet the shell of Haru's ear, hot, wet. He loves being able to do this for Makoto, feels possessively smug that no one else will ever get to see this face.

He leans in. "Tell me what it's like."

"A-ah, it's," he sucks in a breath, sharp, as Haru pushes down and  _kneads._ His next whine is broken. Embarrassed. How cute, Haru thinks.

"It's  _good,_ " Makoto moans, humiliated, "so good, Haru, good. Fffeels-- ah. Like I-I'm full, and," the words just tumble out, Haru's hand massaging into his abdomen, lips kissing his cheeks, the underside of his chin, over and over.

"Hurts?" Haru asks.

"Y-yeah, hurts." Makoto's definitely blinking back tears now. He lets out a little shuddery moan, torn from his throat so suddenly it sounds like a sob. "Hurts, a lot, feels good-- uhh-- I can't-- Haru--"

"You're doing good," Haru murmurs, then chooses to add, "baby boy."

Makoto whimpers.

Haru licks his way into the taller boy's mouth, opens his eyes to find Makoto's squeezed shut and brimming with moisture. His cheeks are  _burning,_ the bitten line of his mouth quivering-- little 'oh's slipping out, like he is surprised, like Haru is forcing the sounds from him-- in turn with his full body shudder. His toes are clenched, now, all energy focused on keeping it in.

"A-ah, Haru-- keeps shuddering!" He buries his head in Haru's shoulder, muffling his voice. "Keeps-- contracting, my stomach, my-- like-- ahh, like I c-can't keep it in."

Haru cranes his neck to kiss Makoto's cheek, his gestures soft and loving.

"So don't."

He pushes down. Makoto cries out.

Tears finally escape from his eyes, beading and rolling past his lashes pitiable little warbles. He remains with his hands tight on Haru's shoulders as he wets himself.  _Humiliated._

This boy of his is  _wrecked,_ thinks Haru, kissing Makoto's salty tears and coaxing the last of his noises out, wringing him.


End file.
